


Taken

by capildissexy



Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Blindness, Blue Balls, Bondage, Dom!Twelve, F/M, Fucking, Gratuitous Smut, Hand & Finger Kink, Humor, Light BDSM, Memory Loss, Sex Pollen, Slow Burn, Sonic Screwdriver, Vaginal Fingering, sub!Clara
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-16
Updated: 2015-11-20
Packaged: 2018-05-02 00:34:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 8,556
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5227085
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/capildissexy/pseuds/capildissexy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A Whouffaldi fic. Clara's been kidnapped and her chemistry has been altered, so she now gives off powerful pheromones. The Doctor has rescued her, but can he resist the temptation? In other words, a good ol' sex pollen story.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Taken

Clara Oswald felt fantastic.

She hadn't felt this good in years. Before Danny died, before she'd graduated from college. The last time she'd felt this free, this open was with Nina. They'd polished off a couple bottles of champagne on New Year's Eve and made love all night. Yes, Clara felt exactly like that…without inhibitions, relaxed, sexual. Sensual. She couldn't stop touching herself, running her hands down her body, sinking fingers into her air.

God, she wanted to be touched. Stroked.

Clara looked down at herself. She was dressed in a red and black baby doll nightie with matching heels and black silk thigh highs. Yet she didn't remember putting the clothing on. She couldn't be sure, but she didn't think she even owned anything like it. But it hurt to think, to focus on anything but her own body. Her own needs.

Clara forced herself. Think! Where was she? How did she get here?

Clara tried to orient herself. But the surroundings were unfamiliar and she couldn't remember how she'd gotten here. There was a zebra striped rug on the floor and a gigantic king-sized bed in the center of the room with a red velvet headboard in the shape of a heart. The bed also had a crimson coverlet, which was dotted with zebra throw pillows. Maybe if she looked outside? She walked to the red velvet curtains on the wall and drew them back to reveal a field of stars.

She was in space. But the last thing she remembered was going to a concert with the Doctor. And where was the Doctor? Shouldn't he be here with her?

Oh well.

Clara thought she should be more concerned about it…but she wasn't somehow. The familiar haze descended over her again. With a sigh, she laid down on the bed and curled on one side, running hands down her stomach, her hips.

The Doctor would show up. He always did.

12

Lascivious District, Delta Quadrant, 38th Century

The auction was about to begin.

The Doctor slid into a black leather chair in the front row with a black lacquer paddle in hand. In the center of the room was an auction block. Surrounding him were a group of older males of various species. They'd come to Lascivious to purchase a new toy. It made him sick to his stomach.

He watched in horror as throng of scantily clad young humans were led into the room, Clara stood in the middle of the group. She swayed on her feet just like the men and women surrounding her. He bet they'd been fed aphrodisiacs to make them compliant because she made no attempt to cover herself. And she seemed completely unconcerned about her fate.

The Doctor gulped. She wore a scrap of red and black lace. Around her throat was a silver collar and a matching leash. He wanted to go over there, throw his coat over her shoulders and whisk her off in the TARDIS, but he couldn't. Not with the tight security.

The Doctor glanced at the burly guards standing in the four corners of the room. They were holding lethal laser blasters. They'd never even make it out of the room if he tried to rescue her and the others. His only hope was to buy Clara.

This was all his fault. He should've been paying closer attention to her. He'd gone backstage to meet the guitarist and Clara had evidently been grabbed. There were gangs in this quadrant who nabbed beautiful young human women for auctions such as these.

The bidding began and the Doctor chewed on his thumb as the other humans were auctioned away. He wished he could save them all, but the Doctor had to be practical. Save who you can. And he wouldn't do anything to jeopardize Clara.

He steeled himself, waiting until Clara's lot was announced.

"Lot Twelve," the auctioneer called. He had a handlebar mustache and wore a Victorian cutaway coat along with ridiculous crimson breeches. "A beautiful young woman to keep you warm on those chilly nights. A scan of her mind has revealed she's educated and…inexplicably from earth's past. A rare prize indeed. Perhaps she fell through a worm hole or was captured by space pirates. Turn around, so the folks can take a look at you."

Clara obligingly spun around, teetering on very high heels.

The crowd oohed and ahhed.

The Doctor bounced one of his knees. Come on…come on.

"I'll start the bidding at 10,000 credits."

The men around him hissed at the high price. The Doctor raised his paddle as did one other, an elderly man in a bowler hat. He was missing some teeth and he'd combed a few stray white hairs over his shiny bald head. The geriatric licked his lips as he looked Clara up and down as though she were something tasty to eat.

The Doctor felt like slapping the look off the lecher's face.

"Do I hear 11,000?"

The Doctor and the geezer both raised their paddles.

"11,500?"

Again, both men bid.

Exasperated, the Doctor raised his paddle. "12,000!" Then he scowled at the leering old man, daring him to counterbid.

The man lowered his paddle.

"I win," the Doctor said with a sneer. Thank all the Gods.

"Lot Twelve goes to the Time Lord. We hope you enjoy your purchase. You can collect her after the auction."

The Doctor bided his time until it was time to claim Clara.

He approached the auction block after it was over to collect Clara. The auctioneer scanned his thumb print, which the Doctor had cloned from a local war lord. He never carried money so he'd been forced to improvise.

The man nodded as the transaction went through. "Very good, Sir."

"Tell me…was she…accosted while in your care?" he asked…very carefully.

The man's eyes widened. "No, sir. We didn't….we guarantee our products. We're strictly professional."

"Yes so very professional," the Doctor said icily.

"Uh, here your purchase." He tugged Clara's leash and then handed it to the Doctor. "Pleasure doing business with you." And then the man trotted off, eager to deal with another customer.

The Doctor tried to keep his temper under control. Moments like this made him long for the days when violence didn't bother him so much. He'd love to teach these bastards a lesson.

But now wasn't the time.

The Doctor led a dazed Clara to the safety of the TARDIS and he promptly took off, anxious to put Lascivious behind both of them.

12

"Do you know who I am?" the Doctor asked Clara.

She stood in the control room next to him, gaping at everything. "You're the Doctor." And then she giggled.

"Yes, and do you know your name?" he asked carefully. Right about now she should be yelling at him for leaving her alone. Or maybe hugging him and thanking him for the dashing rescue? He wished it was the last one.

"Clara, silly." But she still seemed confused."It really is bigger on the inside."

With a sigh, he removed the collar and leash, before tossing them aside. He put on his sonic sunglasses and scanned her body. There were traces of an aphrodisiac in her blood, along with a relaxant to keep her calm. The bastards who'd stolen her had done….something to her. No, they hadn't molested her which was a huge relief. The sonic noted she had an altered chemical signature, but it was having trouble isolating the compounds.

Clara wrapped her arms around him, snuggling in against his side. "I've missed you, Doctor."

"Clara, I'm so sorry. Did they hurt you?"

"No, Doctor. I'm fine," she murmured, her big beautiful eyes looked even larger today, more luminous.

And then it hit him.

A wave of desire so intense he almost cried out. It rippled along his skin like fire. His knees nearly buckled. "Oh no. Oh Gods…no. What did they do to you?" Bloody stupid humans and their need to mess with the laws of nature. They hadn't just drugged Clara, they'd turned her into a bombshell, a man magnet.

"Nothing, Doctor."

The Doctor peeled himself away from Clara and scanned her again. She was giving off a potent mixture of pheromones. No humanoid male would be able to resist her.

"Come here, Doctor. Hold me…touch me."

"No!" he said running around the console to put some distance between them. The Doctor twisted himself into an awkward position, hunching over to hide his erection.

Her heels clacked as she followed him, but he dodged her. "Stop it! Stay right where you are!" he said, pointing an admonishing finger at her.

Clara puffed out her lower lip, pouting at him. "But I just want a hug."

"Yeah, well, I want a lot more than that," he said gruffly. Then slapped his own face for saying it. "Clara, go to your room."

"I don't want to!" she said with the most adorable little frown.

He wanted to kiss the corner of her mouth…and then…Good Lord.

"Now!" he said.

"Fine!" Her hips swayed as she walked off and he turned away deliberately. "You don't have to be so mean!"

They'd sort this after the drugs war off. Clara was going to be livid.

And the Doctor was going to be living in blue ball hell.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> How long could he keep himself in check? The Doctor feared it wouldn’t be long.

Taken 2/5

The Doctor was meditating…or trying to at any rate.

While Clara had slept off the drugs, the Doctor had kept himself busy. He'd ran ship diagnostics, after sound proofing Clara's door he'd played Rolling Stones tunes until his fingers bled.

And now… protected by the air shield, he sat cross-legged on top of the TARDIS with his eyes closed and palms out, communing with the universe. But it wasn't working. Not that it ever worked well.

He kept thinking about Clara and how they'd fix her condition as well as those poor humans been auctioned off. The concern for Clara and the guilt was eating at him.

Whenever Clara was in danger, his universe narrowed down to just one human woman and he could think or care about little else.

With a sigh, he slid down, vaulting into the TARDIS and found Clara waiting for him on his leather chair in the gallery.

"Hello, Doctor," she said. That's it…two little words in an impossibly throaty tone. The one she'd used when she told him about the sudden forest in London.

His cock started to rise. Blast.

Summoning every ounce of his control, the Doctor shoved the arousing thoughts away. Time Lords prided themselves on mastery of mind over body. He could this…he just needed to put his back into it. He buttoned his velvet coat and stiffly made his way up the stairs to her.

The Doctor cleared his throat. "Hello, Clara." There. That sounded normal, right? Humans always greeted one another and exchanged meaningless pleasantries. "How are you feeling?"

Gods, was he blushing? Because his face felt like it was burning.

She had a leg slung over the arm, curled up in the chair with a book in her grasp. Clara's hair was a wild mass of curls and her eyes were lined with kohl and smoky-looking. She wore a gauzy white dress and no shoes, just bare sun-kissed legs.

The Doctor had an urge to wrap those legs around his waist, while he thrust into her.

Self….control!

Clara shifted in the chair with a sigh. "Mmm…good, Doctor. So very good. And you?"

Yeah, he bet she felt pretty damn good. He could make out the shape of her nipples through the thin fabric….they were hardened, pinkish brown…and just begging for his mouth. He ran a hand through his hair, scratching at his scalp.

"I'm…fine." The Doctor forced his gaze skyward. Look at that, the ceiling could do with a good dusting. "Have the drugs worn off?"

Clara nodded. "I'm me…but different."

"They've supercharged your pheromones," the Doctor explained. "Speaking of, let's go to the medibay and have the TARDIS sort it out."

"No, more than that, Doctor." Clara lazily ran a hand down her body, delighting in the sensual feel of it. "I'm more….free? Open?"

Yeah, he wasn't going to touch that one.

"Let's go. Medibay. Now." He turned on his heel, walking as fast as his legs would take him.

Clara followed and obligingly sat on a steel examination panel. He flipped on the scanner and it whirred as a blue light settled over her, signalizing an exam in progress. The Doctor watched, willing his ship to come up with a solution. Fast. Before he did something they'd both regret.

She worried her lower lip. "We have to go back, Doctor."

He sighed. Damn. "I was afraid you'd say that."

Clara moved back and forth on the table, swinging her legs. She seemed to have difficulty sitting still.

Something was wrong her…he could sense it. And that knowledge helped him keep the desire for her at bay. She was ill. Clara needed his help. He could keep it together for her. Right. Priorities. Fix Clara first. Save humans later.

Those pheromones needed to go.

"I knew you'd be upset." Now that she was safe, he'd had second thoughts, too.

"You were worried about me, weren't you?" she asked, big brown eyes full of compassion.

Every time she looked at him like that, he feared he'd melt into a Time Lord shaped puddle at her feet. Oncoming storm his arse. "We'll get you fixed up and then we'll talk about it, okay?"

Clara frowned. "But Doctor…they need your help more than me. I'll be fine. They're the ones being sold as sexual playthings."

"We don't know you're fine. You're always taking too many risks. You have a fragile human body and it's high time you respect its limitations.

"But—"

"Listen to me." The Doctor began to pace, hands behind his back. "Clara, I've told you before, the box only says police. I'm not a policeman. Let's assume we stop this slavery ring, you know there are dozens of others, don't you?"

Clara hung her head.

The Doctor hated disappointing her, but he didn't want to get her hopes up. "This quadrant is notorious for criminal activity. I could spend decades hunting down criminals and new ones would pop up. I'd hoped that once humanity lived among the stars, you lot would learn a little, but you've made the same ghastly mistakes only on an intergalactic level–drugs, human trafficking, and cloned batches of humans too."

"Like the grunt we saw on the Neptune station?" she asked.

"Yes," the Doctor said sadly. "Genetically engineered humans to fight in wars or even disposable ones to be used as spare parts. There are any number of atrocities going on in the universe, Clara. And I'm only one man. Am I responsible for righting all of the wrongs?"

Her eyes filled with tears and it socked him right in the teeth. He wanted to live up to her expectations, to be the hero she'd told Robin Hood he was, but the Doctor was just a man. A fallible man who'd been desperately scared for her.

"No, I guess not," she whispered. And then tears began to fall.

It was gut-wrenching to watch, but this wasn't like Clara. She could do the stiff upper lip thing. He'd seen her in action before. The Doctor had an awful feeling it wasn't just pheromones at work.

"We'll make sure you're okay first," he whispered. "And then I see what we can do. Deal?" he asked.

Clara smiled at him and his hearts pounded a bit faster. "Deal."

The TARDIS burbled, signaling the scan had come to an end and he accessed the panel, reading over the results. "Clara, you said you felt different, but how?"

"More….exposed? I know that's vague. But that's how I feel."

He looked at the scan again...it was just as he'd feared. "They've tampered with more than chemistry. They've altered your frontal lobe."

"How?" she asked, voice tremulous.

"Specifically, they've altered the part of your brain that deals with inhibition."

Damn them. The Doctor should've listened to his baser instincts and taught them a lesson…the bloody kind. Oh yes, he'd be paying these slavers another visit alright. One they might not have the opportunity to forget.

"That's why I feel so strange," Clara said, her brow furrowing. "Can the TARDIS fix me?"

"She's an incredible ship, Clara, but she can't do microsurgeries, especially on delicate human brain tissue. We'll have to go back to their labs. I'll use their equipment to fix you and the other humans."

And then he'd destroy their operation for good.

She sniffled. "Okay."

"Talk to me," he coaxed. "Tell me what's going through your mind."

Clara's gaze dropped to his mouth. "Everything's muddled. Right now, I need sex. I keep thinking about you on top of me, sliding your cock inside me…"

The Doctor gulped and closed his eyes as his body roused at her artless words.

And then she reached for him, sliding off the bed, arms open. The Doctor backed away from her. He held up a hand. "No! Keep your distance."

Clara whimpered, but kept her distance. "But I want you."

"That's the pheromones and the inhibition talking."

Speaking of…her chemical signature was working its magic. Not that he needed any inducement. He'd always wanted Clara, but it never seemed to be the right time: the impossible girl puzzle, Trenzalore, an aged regeneration, stupid tiger-fighting soldiers who die, and then Santa and alien parasites. They'd been traveling together for months now after platonically pseudo-eloping on Christmas. And he hadn't manned up and asked her out properly.

What a mess.

She shook her head. "No, I wanted you from the first, even in that horrid burlap monk outfit."

"That wasn't me, that was bowtie," he muttered. Was it possible to be jealous of yourself? Because he wanted to slap those ludicrous wispy eyebrows right off chin boy.

She giggled. "Same thing."

"No, it's really not." But what should he do with her? He couldn't take Clara with him against the slavers. She'd be….distracting.

"Sit down on the table. I need to think and I couldn't do it when you're so close." The Doctor prided himself on his mental faculties, but nothing above his neck appeared to be functioning well. Below the belt was a different story.

"Oh, Doctor, does that mean you want me?"

The throaty tone was back with a vengeance. Dammit. He needed a plan. Now.

Take her home? To a job where she worked with oversexed adolescent boys. No.

Take her to Madame Vastra's? So, a Victorian man could fall for her? No. The Doctor realized he didn't trust anyone but himself with her. That meant she'd have to stay with him until this was over.

The universe was a cruel mistress.

And then, as if to prove his point, Clara began touching herself. "Oh, Doctor, I need you." She pulled up her dress, revealing slim hips and a pair of white lacy knickers. Like the frock she wore, they were see through too.

The Doctor gulped. Clara shaved her genitals. Goodness, nothing but luscious bare skin between her legs. She moved the cloth aside and revealed pink pouting folds that were lusciously wet. And she pushed a finger inside herself, eyes fixed on him. "Yes, Doctor…."

He knew should leave, but his legs wouldn't work anymore.

"I want you."

The Doctor slid a palm down his face and stared at her. "I wish you wouldn't say things like that." He licked his lips as he watched her stroke herself. Gods, he wanted to touch her, too. Rub her. Kiss her. Taste her.

Take her.

"Doctor, I need you inside me. I want you to…"

"Don't finish that sentence!" he said hoarsely. "I beg you." He was so hard, he was aching. The Doctor adjusted himself. His cock was so hard, he feared it might rip through his trousers. With horror, he noted a wet spot near his zipper. He wanted to shove them down his hips, take his cock in hand.

Creaming his pants, like a schoolboy.

Meanwhile, Clara writhed on the table like a wild thing. And he'd give a regeneration or two to join her. But she wasn't in her right mind just now.

But he could do something for her. For them both.

More than anything, the Doctor wanted to make Clara come for him. And today he'd get his wish…in a fashion.

"Clara, I'm going to use the sonic on you, okay?"

"Mmm…yes, Doctor. Sonic me," she murmured, lifting her head to lock eyes with him. "Sonic me, Doctor."

Oh yes, he wanted to sonic her alright. If she still felt this way after she was back to normal. He'd sonic the hell out of her.

The Doctor pulled his sonic specs out his pocket and then focused them on Clara's perfect pussy. He found a pleasurable setting and let her have it. Clara groaned, hips bucking as the wave hit her. She only lasted a few moments, before she came for him. "Doctor! Yes!" And then she collapsed in a boneless little heap.

Hearing his name had been gratifying…but he wanted more. He wanted to gather her up in his arms, cuddle her, kiss her. But if he touched Clara, he'd be a goner.

He wanted all of her…but he couldn't. Not like this.

Yeah, he had to get the hell out of here…

The Doctor staggered from the room and closed the medibay door behind him. And then he leaned against it, breathing hard.

How long could he keep himself in check? The Doctor feared it wouldn't be long.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> More lustful shenanigans.

Taken 3/5

The Doctor had a plan.

If he could just concentrate long enough to make it happen. Clara stood next to him in the control room, pressed against his side. After he'd left her in the medibay he'd gone for a good long walk down the corridors to cool off. Once he'd gotten his body back under control he'd come up with a plan.

He just needed to execute it….

But all he could think about was her. He wanted to carry her into her room and make love to her. Hell, he might settle for the chair in the gallery at this point. The Doctor hadn't allowed himself a release. It would've been empty without her anyway. After all this was over, he intended to have a good long talk with her about their….relationship, even if it was awkward and embarrassing. If she turned him down, at least he'd know one way or the other. Living in limbo like this was worse.

"Clara, why don't you find a book to read?" he asked, desperate to get her away from him. Unfortunately, he didn't have the will to push her away.

"I don't want to, Doctor, I want to spend time with you." And then she wriggled against him, dragging her breasts along his side, wrapping her arms around him.

Damn, he was so hard he couldn't think straight.

The Doctor gripped the lever in front of him tightly to keep from reaching for her.

And she was rubbing herself against him. He could feel every curve of her body. The Doctor bit the inside of his cheek and tried to remember he was a good man. A man who'd never take sexual advantage of his companion. If he did, Clara would hate him, never speak to him again.

So, he held himself in check.

"Where are we going?" she asked.

"Back to take care of those slavers." Oh, yes, he was looking forward to having a word or two with them.

"That's good. How?"

"Oh, I have something poetic in mind for them." When he'd thought of the solution, he'd been pleased by his own cunning. It wasn't quite like trapping an evil alien girl in a mirror or making someone a living scarecrow, but it rose to that level of vindictiveness. And the bastards had brought it all on themselves.

Clara buried her face in his chest. "You smell good."

"Yes, I do," he said smugly. Gods, he wanted to kiss her. Just a kiss. No, that wasn't true, he wanted to bend her backwards and snog her silly. He wanted to cup the back of her head and kiss her so deep he stole the breath from her lungs.

As if she could read his salacious mind, she started to unbutton his waistcoat. "Woah, woah! What're you doing?"

"Taking your clothes off, silly." And then she went for the buttons on his shirt. "Why do you wear so many layers?"

The Doctor slapped her hands away. "We're going on adventure, Clara. Remember how much you like those? We can't go if we're naked."

He tried to explain it in simple terms since Clara was now a slave to her id, to use a Freudian term. She could no longer control her impulses and that made her a slave to her desires. All of them. He was hoping to subvert the sexual need for another interest of hers.

"We'll go after," she said, sliding her fingers between the buttons, so she could touch his skin.

"Clara, you just had an…" He trailed off.

"But I want another….and another…" With a purring sound, she yanked at his shirt, sending buttons flying.

The Doctor seized her wrists. "Stop! He'd expected the loud tone of his voice to snap her out of this sexual mood, but she licked her lips instead.

"Oh, Doctor, are you trying to take control?"

Again, the throaty tone. His cock leaped at the notion. Over the centuries, he'd played all matter of sexual games. He'd been a bottom, a top, tried some roleplaying. The Doctor had done it all. And the thought of taking Clara in hand sexually appealed to him. The control freak under his control? Oh, yes that'd be very pleasurable.

"Would you like that, Clara?" he asked hoarsely. "Would you like doing what I say? Obeying me?"

She bit her lip and nodded. "I'll do anything you say, Doctor."

And there it was.

The Doctor stood there, balancing between heaven and hell. Oh, he wanted to make her come again. If he lived to be a million years old, he'd still recall every single glorious second of it. He just wished this had happened under different circumstances. "If I give you another orgasm, will you behave yourself and help me take care of the bastards who took you?"

"Yes, Doctor."

He started to reach for the sonic glasses again.

"No, Doctor. Not like that, I want your fingers on me."

"Who's in charge here?" he asked, but he wanted to touch her. That wouldn't be so wrong, would it? He'd give her an orgasm, some relief, without taking any pleasure for himself.

"You are, Doctor. Please touch me."

Oh, he liked the please. If he had his way, there'd be some begging. The Doctor hitched up her flimsy dress to reveal those thin knickers. He cupped her through the fabric and it was soaked.

Clara clutched the lapels of his jacket, fingers digging in.

"So wet for me and I haven't even done anything." He chuckled.

"Oh, Doctor!" She surged against his palm, all wetness and heat. He slipped a fingertip beneath the fabric and into her honeyed pussy.

They both groaned.

She was so swollen, softer than he could've imagined…like slick velvet. Gods, he wanted to be on his knees with her thighs wrapped around his head. So much for control. He could put that respiratory bypass to work and make her come until she pleaded with him to stop.

The Doctor rubbed her, tracing the lips.

"Please, Doctor, I need you. Take me." And then Clara placed a hand on him, stroking him through his trousers.

The Doctor trembled. God, more than anything, he wanted to unzip his fly and push into her. He'd never been this full, this needy.

But he couldn't. The Doctor pressed his thumb against her clit and applied the slightest bit of pressure and she wailed. "That's it. Come for me, Clara."

"Doctor!" Her hand fell away from him.

And he concentrated on her, working her until she started to gasp.

"Doctor, please, I can't…." And then she wailed as she reached the peak.

The Doctor stumbled away from her and she slumped to the floor.

"Doctor, I want you to fuck me. Take me."

He wrapped his arms around his chest. His cock felt like a branding iron his pants. He wanted nothing more in the world than Clara Oswald. But not like this. "No, Clara. Not like this. Get cleaned up. We're almost there."

"But…"

"I'm the boss, remember?" he snapped. "Do as you are told." And then he stalked away from her.

Clara got to her feet and headed down the hallway.

"And for pity's sake, put on something more substantial!" he called. Like a turtleneck. Or a parka.

The Doctor closed his eyes and willed his erection to go down. He thought of anything else but Clara. The Doctor focused on making those bastards pay, but it was cold comfort.

He had a feeling the damage done between himself and Clara was permanent.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clara and the Doctor take care of the slavers and talk about their feelings.

Taken 4 /5

After throwing on a dark hoodie, a pair of trainers, and black yoga pants with a matching t-shirt, Clara made her way to the control room. She'd tried her best to concentrate and do as the Doctor said, but it'd been difficult. She'd wanted to wear something provocative, feminine like high heel shoes or one of her slinky dresses.

But her desire for payback won out. So, she'd gone with basic black ninja type wear. She couldn't stop the slavers if she could turn an ankle any second. Clara was frankly amazed at her own restraint. Maybe she was regaining control over her faculties?

And that notion screeched to a halt as soon as she entered the control room.

The Doctor stood near the doors, hands on hips, dressed all in black with sonic specs on. He, too, wore a black t-shirt, a leather coat, and dark trousers. Over one shoulder, he'd draped a black bag. He looked…powerful. In control. And he wore a pair of leather gauntlets that made her knees weak.

Clara couldn't help but think about him touching her with those on. The feel of warm leather against her skin. And she started to get wet once more. Actually, just being near the Doctor seemed to do that now. Although, he'd always made her pulse race. Clara had fantasized about the Time Lord more times than she could count, in all of his forms, actually.

And sometimes…they were all there at once. Gulp.

"There you are. I was about to send out a search party. We're already at the auction house."

Clara rolled her eyes. "You try staying on task when you're helpless to respond to any of your desires." She sidled up to him. "Speaking of, I love those gloves."

He arched a brow. "Do you know? I have another pair."

Clara licked her lips. "Do you?"

"Yes. One glove is velvet and the other leather. They have a very…particular use."

"Can we play with them?"

The Doctor groaned.

She cocked her head to the side. "And can I have a kiss?"

His eyes flared. And for a spilt second, she thought he just might kiss her, but he stepped back. "Stop it!" the Doctor ordered. "You promised to behave."

"Yeah, well, I'm a brilliant liar," Clara said.

He sighed and gave her kicked puppy eyes. "I know. You learned it from watching me."

"Oh, don't. "No guilt. Not today."

He tapped the bag at his side. "The guilt will be all mine today. Come along." With that, he marched out the doors and Clara followed him. She stepped onto a flat white surface. Everything was white, actually except for the field of stars above their heads. The surroundings weren't familiar. Clara must've been knocked out when they brought her onboard.

The place wasn't crowded. There were only a couple ships. Evidently, there wasn't an auction today.

They appeared to be on a space station which orbited an enormous purple looking planet. "There's an air shield. That's why we can breathe. And I've parked us on the outermost lane, which scans indicate is just out of their camera range. With any luck, we'll be making a quick exit today and no one will be the wiser."

"What's your plan?" she asked.

"You'll see."

As they approached the entrance, a man in fatigues stepped out, a blaster at the ready. "State your business."

"I've come to return this girl. She's defective," the Doctor said, indicating Clara with a wave of his hand.

Clara couldn't help but scowl.

"See? She has a personality. I thought she was supposed to be a puppet. That just don't won't do."

The man frowned. "Let me call this in." He raised his wrist to his mouth and spoke into some contraption on his wrist the size of a watch, "We have a return, boss. Defective merchandise."

And then the Doctor struck.

He reached into his bag and attached a memory worm to the man's exposed flesh. It sunk its tusks in, bearing down. And the man slumped to the floor.

"Good boy," the Doctor said as he picked up the worm, stroking its head with a gloved hand.

The man appeared to be bewildered, blinking and flustered. "What happened? Who are you?" He spoke in a small, scared voice.

"What happened to him?" Clara asked.

The Doctor smirked. "He's lost decades of memories. Now, he's helpless. How they made you." The Doctor pulled the blaster from the man's grip and did something with the sonic sunglasses. "Come on then, Clara."

She followed him as he soniced the doors and they entered a large room that said "processing" on the wall. There were three large steel cages filled to the brim with human beings. When they saw Clara and the Doctor they backed away, cowering at the back of the cages.

Two more guards came running in and the Doctor turned the blaster on them.

Clara's eyes widened. The Doctor was going to shoot someone?

But when the beams hit them, they shrieked, hitting the floor, holding their faces. Clawing at their eyes.

Clara knew she should feel something.

"I blinded them, Clara. They'll live," the Doctor said coolly. "I modified the blaster so it doesn't rip through flesh anymore, but the laser light can cause permanent damage to their retinas." The Doctor then let the memory worm bite the guards…rendering them helpless.

The last time she'd seen him so cool, so heartless, really, was when he faced down Missy, ready to kill her with her own device. It wasn't hard to imagine this man with blood on his hands. And she'd been tempted that day to get blood on her hands as well. But the Doctor had pulled her back.

"If they remember us, Clara, they might come for us. That's a chance I won't take with you."

She stood staring at the blinded…helpless man. The Doctor's rage was breathtaking to behold. But Clara didn't feel guilty about it. Or worried. Her id was out and she thirsted for vengeance. She was more like the Doctor than she realized. That should frighten her. The Doctor was a dangerous man….but it didn't.

"Come on then," the Doctor said. "We're going after the auctioneer. We'll free the humans after I've secured this space."

Clara nodded, following him.

They encountered a half dozen more guards and the Doctor took them down easily, blinding them all. Then allowing the worm to chomp on them. They finally found the auctioneer at the back of the building, trying to sneak out the door.

He held up his hands. "Wait. I'm not armed."

The Doctor sneered. "Lucky you. You get to keep your site."

"Maybe we can work something out here." He pointed to the briefcases at his feet. "There are several hundred thousand credits there. More than enough to keep you in luxury's lap for decades to come." Then, he stroked his chin. "I remember the girl," he said, nodding to Clara. "That's what brought all this on? She belonged to you in the first place? I took your property?"

The Doctor laughed. "You don't get it. People aren't property. Clara is my…" he trailed off.

"Your what, Doctor?" she asked. Because she'd really like to know. They'd been dancing around this for years.

The Doctor looked at her, heart in his eyes. "My everything," he whispered hoarsely.

"I love you, Doctor." God, she'd wanted to say those words so long and she couldn't hold them back anymore.

He flinched. "You aren't thinking straight right now."

"No, Doctor, for the first time in a long time, I'm being honest. I won't make the same mistake with you, I made with Danny. I love you," she said.

The Doctor just gaped at her.

"There. No harm. No foul. So you and your lady friend don't need to do anything rash." The slaver inched towards the door.

"No harm? No foul?" Clara asked, her voice rising with her temper. "You were going to sell me as a plaything. You violated my mind."

And then she leapt on him with the fully fury of her Tae Kwan Do training, knocking the man to the ground and straddling him. The kids weren't the only ones who'd been training.

Clara placed an elbow against his throat, blocking his windpipe. He struggled beneath her, trying to dislodge her arm, but she didn't budge.

"Don't!" the Doctor said. "Clara, stop!"

"No!" Right now, she wanted to kill the auctioneer. He'd never do this to another human being.

"Clara!" the Doctor pleaded, sinking to his knees next to her. "No…don't. Don't make my mistake, Clara. After you kill the first person, it becomes all too easy to do it again. You don't want to live like that."

Last time, when she'd tried to kill Missy, he'd stepped in to keep her conscience clear. "Give me one good reason why," she said, watching as the man's eyes rolled back in his head beneath her.

"Because I love you, Clara. I want something better for you."

He'd said the words! "Do you mean it? You aren't just saying that to spare him?"

"Can't it be both?!" the Doctor growled.

Clara released the auctioneer. The man writhed on the ground, coughing and sucking in breath. The Doctor leaned down once more and let the worm bite him.

"There…it's finished," he said with a sigh.

There was a finality in that statement.

He stood up and she could see the pain and self-loathing settle on his face. "Doctor…"

"Shh," he said, pulling her into his arms and kissing the top of her head. "I'll fix you and the rest of the humans with their equipment. And then we'll release everyone. They can commandeer a ship or two outside. And I'll destroy the footage," he said, nodding to a camera above their heads. "It'll be like we were never here."

"And what about them?" Clara asked, watching the auctioneer, who held a hand to his head peering at his surroundings with bewildered eyes.

"We'll leave the bastards here," the Doctor said. "Personally, I think they'd make great toys. Who knows? Maybe another slaver will sell them as pets."

"And what about us?" Clara asked.

The Doctor smiled at her…sadly. "We'll see if you feel the same way once you're back to your senses."


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Smutty FInish....

aken 5 /5

Clara woke up in her bedroom on the TARDIS. She had a slight headache and her mouth felt dry.

With a yawn, she sat up in bed….to find the Doctor laying on the end of it, a book in hand, Lady Chatterly's Lover. He licked a finger and then turned the page. For a moment, she just admired him…his silver curls, those smoldering, sharp features, the stark white of his button down shirt contrasted with inky black of his waistcoat and trousers.

The Doctor was a man of many contradictions.

"Doctor?"

He blinked, as if he'd been absorbed in the book. "Hello, Sleeping Beauty," he said. "How do you feel?"

"Okay." Everything they'd done yesterday came back in a rush…the memory worms…the slavers. Clara grimaced. She had a dim memory of the Doctor tucking her into bed last night. "Did you fix me?"

The sonic sunglasses were tucked into his silver hair and he pressed the temple until they slid down his forehead and onto the bridge of his nose. They made a whirring noise as he scanned her.

"Yes. Good as new," he pronounced.

She worried her lower lip.

"…or perhaps not?"

"You had to stop me from killing someone yesterday. Granted, he was a bad man…but…"

"The point is, you didn't, Clara," the Doctor sat, placing a fingertip beneath her chin. "No one died yesterday. And you couldn't help yourself. You were a slave to your impulses. I have no such excuse. And I'm not proud of myself or my actions…but we stopped their operation. That's something good that came out of this mess."

She sighed. "How do you stand this? How do you know what you should and shouldn't do? What the repercussions might be when all of time and space can be affected?"

"No one said being the Doctor is easy, Clara."

Clara smiled. "Truer words were never spoken. I can play at being you, but I wouldn't want to do it full time."

"Luckily, there's only one me." The Doctor grinned at her and then it faltered. "Which brings us to another matter. Do you remember what we talked about yesterday?"

"Of course I do," she said. Clara plucked the shades from his eyes. "I love you, Doctor."

His gaze locked with hers. "How can you? How can you…possibly? You have seen me at my worst. And it's pretty bleak."

Clara thought back to that dusty barn and that big button. "But you didn't press the button, Doctor. You saved your own people and stopped the Time War. And you've seen me at my worst. When I tried to kill a man…and your crazy mate."

"Everyone wants to kill the Master. That doesn't count," he joked.

Clara chuckled and then she sobered, remembering. "And when I threatened you on the bank of a volcano."

"You didn't toss the keys. That was all in your head, Clara."

"But it was in my heart." Tears sprung to her eyes. "I would've done it, if you hadn't stopped me."

"Well, it seems we hold each other in check. Do I have to say it again?" the Doctor asked. "Do you think I care for you so little…"

And then Clara kissed him. The Doctor groaned, hauling her into his arms and kissing her voraciously. She'd wanted this for so long. Why had they wasted so much time?

She pushed at his chest when dots danced before her eyes. "You could just say I love you."

"If you were paying attention, I already did." The Doctor continued to kiss her. Her cheeks, the corner of her mouth, and then down her neck…

"Oh!" Clara shivered.

"And are you still going to do as your told?" the Doctor asked. His voice was a low husky growl that made her shiver.

Clara sighed. It would be her pleasure. "Just this once…"

"Then, I have a very special room to show you." The Doctor took her hand and led her down the hallway until they entered a room with dark wooden floors and a lot…equipment. If she hadn't seen Fifty Shades of Grey with Nina she wouldn't have recognized a damn thing. The room screamed sex. Kinky sex. There was an enormous California King bed swathed in crimson sheets, a wooden St. Andrew's cross, a padded bench, and another contraption Clara couldn't identify.

And she didn't need her inhibitions removed to feel a thrill run through her body. She and the Doctor were finally going to have sex.

"That's a bondage horse," the Doctor explained. "And I think its suits our purpose today. Strip."

And Clara began to unbutton her pajama top.

12

The Doctor watched as Clara revealed every single inch of her bare flesh to his avid gaze. She was every bit as beautiful as he'd imagined. And when she was gloriously naked…shapely hips, jutting breast, the bare apex at her thighs…he took her all in. His cock kicked in his trousers. He'd been edged for the past twenty four hours and he felt like he might explode.

"I want you to lie on the bench," he said. "On your back."

Clara scrambled on top of the furniture. It was essentially a steel sawhorse with distinct leather hump in the middle. And on either side, it had low smooth wooden shelves where a submissive could place her limbs. Clara's body lay spread on it like an offering.

"Now, raise your arms on the shelves below, palms up. And tuck your legs on either side, spread yourself open for me," he said.

Clara complied immediately, spreading her legs so he had an uninterrupted view of her tight pink pussy. The steel below had an adjustable hinge and he knelt to alter the height, pushing her up, so her hips were at the right height for his own. She looked glorious…her pussy was glossy and wet. Her tannish pink nipples were two hard points. Her cherry mouth an open O.

"Perfect," he said, gruffly. "Now, I'm going to tie you to this bench. Then, I'm going to tease you, Clara. And you know what comes next?"

Clara shook her head, for once speechless.

"I'm going to fuck you."

She made a little needy sound in the back of her throat and his cock twitched. He fastened leather straps over her body, hooking the ends onto little eyes at the base of each shelf. He placed one around her waist, one at the top of her thighs and one at the shoulders. And then he cuffed each wrist and connected them as well.

There. Clara couldn't move. She was all his.

"Remember those gloves I told you about?"

"Yes, Doctor."

Oh, he liked the way she said that…like the title it was. "I'm going to use them on you."

She swallowed thickly.

Gods, he loved having her under his control. Clara didn't just submit to anyone. This was such a gift. The Doctor pulled the gloves from his pocket…one velvet, one leather. And he very deliberately put them on, so she could watch his every movement.

The Doctor placed the leather one on the right hand, velvet on the left. And then he walked to her side, placing the leather gloved hand between her thighs and the velvet one on her breasts…then stroked.

Clara's breath hitched and her hips rocked upwards. He abraded her nipples and the sensitive skin on her stomach…before teasing her breasts again. And with his other hand, he traced the lips of her sex.

"Tell me how it feels," he ordered. His voice had dropped an octave. "Start with the velvet."

"Like its licking me…"

And he rewarded her by sucking a nipple into his mouth whilst he tweaked the other with the glove. "And the leather?" he asked, mouth muffled against her skin.

"Oh….supple…smooth."

The Doctor rewarded her by rubbing her clit.

Clara squeaked. "Doctor!"

The Doctor stroked her pussy, playing it effortlessly. He'd had hundreds of years to practice. And everything until now felt like that…as if he'd been readying himself for the wonder that was Clara Oswald.

"You're going to come for me, Clara."

"Yes, Doctor!" she groaned, pushing up against him, straining in her bonds.

Another minute of stimulation and she came with a cry, head arching back.

"Look at me!"

She turned her head and he watched her ride out the orgasm, saw the pleasure in her eyes.

And the Doctor kissed her again, plunging his tongue into her mouth, kissing her deep. Penetrating her.

With a groan, he stalked to the end of the bench until he stood between her splayed thighs. He rested his hand against the small of her stomach, gentling her. Her thighs quivered, her sex was silky and smooth. He tossed away the gloves and smoothed a fingertip over her, delighting in the way her hips bucked.

"Your mine, Clara."

Her hips arched as if they recognized the truth of his words. "Yes!"

"Look at me. Watch me take you," he rumbled. Then the Doctor slowly undid the zipper. The sound it made was vaguely obscene. His cock was pressed up against the black and white question mark underpants. A wet spot staining them where the head rested against the fabric. He peeled them down and his cock sprang free.

It was thick and purplish red.

Clara licked her lips as she stared at it.

And he stroked it, liking her eyes on him. Wondering what it would be like to thrust his cock into her mouth.

But right now he needed her cunt, needed to be deep inside her. Spill his seed into her. Make her his. Clara Oswald had been made for him. Born to save the Doctor...in every way possible. He wouldn't be the Doctor without her.

"Clara…my Clara."

He placed the tip of his shaft between the lips of her pussy and stroked her with his cock, running the tip up and down, glorying in the rush of warm wetness. Loving the strangled sounds she made even more.

Then, he pushed the tip against her clit, pressing his most sensitive flesh against hers.

"Doctor!" she hissed, swelling against him.

"Your going to come for me again, aren't you?"

"Yes!" she wailed.

And then the Doctor lunged into her, balls deep. And began to pump, angling his hips so his pubic bone grazed her vulnerable flesh. Clara was tight and wet. So hot. Magnificent. Everything he'd dreamed of those cold lonely nights on Trenzalore.

Clara was worth the wait.

He wasn't going to last long…but he didn't have to. He just needed to outlast Clara.

And it didn't take long. With a wail, she came again and with a growl, he came, flooding her with his seed. Fucking her. Claiming her. Clara.

12

An hour later, Clara lay in the crimson bed, curled against the Doctor's side. She had her fingers entwined with his, admiring the smooth length of his.

"We're both stupid. We could've been doing this for ages."

The Doctor chuckled. "I can't argue with that."

"So, this is what we do now? We gallivant around the galaxy and then…"

"Gallivant some more in here," the Doctor said. "That's the general idea."

"Sounds good…but next time, you're on the sex sawhorse thingy."

"Control freak."

She slapped his chest. "Takes one to know one."

"Whatever you say."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And the lived happily ever after. At least in my mind. Look for a couple more prompt fics from me this weekend. I have a medieval romantic comedy piece and a fluffy cuddly bath story.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm going to try to finish this fic this week...a post every day. There will be five parts. Its smutty and my goodbye to Clara. :)


End file.
